


Star Fucker

by JoansGlove



Series: Within These Walls [2]
Category: Wentworth (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-09
Updated: 2019-07-09
Packaged: 2020-06-25 06:35:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19740229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoansGlove/pseuds/JoansGlove
Summary: Joan pays Allie a night-time visit





	Star Fucker

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little something I wrote to soothe my soul
> 
> As always, with thanks to Duchess :)

See how Novak sleeps? Doesn’t she look innocent, hm? But sleep, like snow, hides a multitude of sins. This woman has a void within her that cannot be filled. It will consume her. She’s one of life’s broken people. She’ll never be whole.

And she senses it and it scares her; that is why she seeks to ward it off by joining with women much stronger than she is. Leaching a sense of self-worth from them because she knows that she has nothing of value within herself. She is faithless; she cannot be trusted – ask Proctor, ask Mitchell. Even in the midst of her grief, she found time to grind on Doyle. Smith died for nothing.

Novak will tell you that she sent me to my grave to avenge Smith but I disagree. I suggest that she did it in revenge for me showing her just how perilously close she hovers to that void. And she thinks that my death closes the chapter but she’s wrong. I wonder what she’s dreaming of right now. But I don’t wish to look – other than her self-destruction, mining her consciousness holds no interest for me.

My cool fingertips trace the hollow between her shoulder blades and Novak obligingly rolls onto her back. I straddle her chest, pinning her arms with my knees as I lean over and cradle her head in my hands. Forehead to forehead I treat her to Smith’s final moments.

I let her feel the ferocity of Smith hurling herself at me, let her feel the intimacy between us as Smith slowly sagged and I held her to me. Smith and I were closer then than the two of them could ever be and I let her know it. I took what Smith gave, and I gave her what she wanted.

Each time Novak moans in protest I make myself a little heavier, forcing her to struggle for air, slowly emptying her lungs.

She twitches as she feels the heat of Smith’s blood washing over my fingers and she gasps at the primal stench as it drips and patters on the floor between us. Her feet kick a little behind me and I taste her anguish as she calls Smith’s name. The emotion is sharp and coppery, like licking blood from sweaty skin, and it carries a charge that strengthens me. 

I feel her ribs creak as I increase my weight, and for good measure I cover her nose and mouth with my hands. It’s so gratifying to feel her struggle awake only to find that she’s just as helpless. Those big blue eyes of hers are frantic as they search the room and her legs flail futilely under the quilt, but this is no night terror and I reveal myself to her; and she knows. Knows what it was like for me in _my_ final moments. Knows that the score has yet to be settled.

Despite my weight, she’s arching from the bed. That’s it, try to scream. Yes, fight me. Go on, fight for your life, little Star Fucker. “Bea sends her regards,” I whisper as her eyes roll back, and I take my leave.


End file.
